A hive will swarm when everything in their hive is perfect -- plenty of honey, baby bee eggs laid, pollen ready to feed the larvae, and they've left a few new queens in eggs to hatch so there will be a bee-mama ready to start laying more bee eggs. The old hive leaves everything ready for the new hive to grow strong. Really, it's remarkably generous of them, isn't it?

When the hive swarms, about 2/3 of the bees and the old queen leave but before they do, each bee gorges herself on honey so she'll have enough food in her to last the few days it may take to find a new home. A bee in a swarm is full of honey (drunk on honey is what we call it) and very peaceful.

Swarming bees are very unlikely to sting anyone, they're at their very gentlest, because they 

1) have no home to protect, and 

2) are too drunk on honey to feel worried. 

We've collected swarms  by lifting clusters up with our bare hands. Sadly they are also at their most vulnerable and many get picked off by birds in air or are harmed by humans who think they are dangerous. 

Here's what a swarm looks like hanging in a tree. They're patiently waiting for the scouts to find them a home.

Last year I saw a 12 year old boy on the side of a road spraying a swarm in a bush with poison to kill them. There was no reason for this. The bees were no danger to anyone where they were, off on the side of a field. If he'd left them alone, they would have moved on as soon as they found a new home. Instead he killed them, a terrible loss to us all.

When the swarm is ready they take off from the hive and find a tree or bush where they can hang in a cluster. As soon as they're settled the scout bees take off and look for a new home for them. Each time a scout returns to the swarm with a suggestion, she brings other scout bees with her to see what she thinks might make a fine new home. Good places are anywhere dry and protected, like in an old hollowed out tree or something that resembles that.

A swarm may sit in its temporary location for 20 minutes or they may be there for up to three days (though that's more unusual). In the meantime the scouts are busy looking until they do. Once the scouts decide on a good location, news of the new home spreads instantly -- the swarm lifts as one and flies to it. 

If a hive doesn't find a new home within that time, they are in great danger because they are subject to weather, predators or scared humans finding them and killing them.

The more people who know what a swarm is doing -- and that a SWARM IS NOT INTERESTED IN HARMING ANYONE -- the better. The bees are, as most everyone knows, having a very difficult time right now and the salvation of the bees lies in saving these wild swarms so they can grow stronger.

If someone sees a swarm here's what to do:

1. Leave it alone. The scouts will find a home soon enough and likely within a few hours the whole swarm will be gone.

2. Call your neighbors to come see this ever-more-rare occurence. Some worry that in just a few years, bees may die off and there will be no more swarms.

3. If the swarm needs to be moved, call a local beekeeping group (look up the county extension service, they'll know who they are) and someone will come get them. I do this all the time in southwest Washington and the greater Portland Oregon area. (photo: Joseph helping catch the bees i'm taking off the branch.)

4. Please do NOT harm the bees.  I tell people to stay ten feet away and just watch. Or stand further away and use binoculars. It's an amazing sight. If the hive is in any danger from people it's a good idea to cordon off the area until they move off to their new home.

5. Keep anyone who wants to bother the bees away from them. I've rescued bees that have been sprayed or dowsed with water which did nothing except make the bees susceptible to weather.  There's just no reason for that.

We originally come from New England where snow falls from October to April and though we don't miss blizzards one bit, when we had a few inches of a snowstorm all those years ago, we did wish we had a good sled on hand.

That toboggan sat unused for all those years until just before Christmas when an arctic wind visited and over a week's time dumped about ten inches on us. As you can see the farm looked peaceful and beautiful. What you don't see is how we ran around the day before the storm -- when it was still a balmy 54 degrees -- covering all our garden beds with row covers, tarps and cold frame boxes.

It got so cold last week that much of our winter garden gave up and decided to become mulching material for spring. Nonetheless some hardy plants survived:  brussel sprouts, kale, red cabbage and the parsley that lives in the coldframe. Also everything underground did just fine, all the potatoes, sunchokes and even a few onions. It amazes me how some plants, even in freezing cold temperatures just say, "Brrr...," then shake the ice off their leaves in the next melt and continue growing. Isn't nature wonderful?

Our hens completely refused to set one bony foot on snow. They stayed inside the coop or wandered out under the roofed area to eat from their feeders but nary a chicken track appeared in the snow.

  Joseph walking up to the chicken coop with Remy.

We've been keeping our cows in our neighbors' pasture just up the hill. Normally we milk our cow in an outside stanchion all winter. Hardy souls that we are, if it's raining we wear a rain hat. But our neighbor's barn has inside stanchions and I have to tell you, in the freezing cold snap, I sure was happy to be inside and milking. Not that it was warm by any means, but we at least were out of the wind and snow flurries.

When I milk our cow, no matter how cold the air is, if my fingers are on her warm udder and my head is resting on her furry side as she eats hay, I feel warm. Soon as I stop, even with long underwear on, the air immediately feels bone chillingly cold again. 

Normally we make the seven minute walk up to the barn with our hot water jugs twice each day to feed and milk. If it's a dark and rainy night, however, we're not above driving the car up to stay dry. But snow isn't the same as rain and who wants to drive uphill in snow and risk getting stuck? 

Joseph finally had an opportunity to put that dusty toboggan to work. He suggested it would be a good way to carry our heavy hot water jugs up there so we bundled the bottles in a cloth bag and tied them on. Off we trundled with the toboggan dragging behind us. It was a lot easier to walk through the deep and icy snow with the toboggan carrying the heavy bottles.

But the best part was after we finished our cow care tasks and walked out of the barn into the fresh snow drifts. Joseph sat down in front so he could steer and with one milk jug under each arm I snuggled myself behind him. Speedily we sailed down the hill, coasted at a fair clip across the straightaway and then picked up speed as we yelled and hollered across our field, past the greenhouse and sledded down the path to home.

A few nights later the rain returned and overnight we went back to winter drizzle and green grass. Tomorrow's supposed to be 50-something and sunny so I'm thinking it will be a good day to get started on pruning the fruit trees. Hope you're staying warm this winter.

Jacqueilne & Joseph